Unus et Solus
by Cereus-Catalina
Summary: It's been eight years since the Battle of Hogwarts, three years since Harry was killed by Voldemort. Some were captured and marked as slaves, those who escaped are being hunted. Hermione, captured and sold to the highest bidder. Mature readers only please. Warnings in A/N. Mainly Draco/Hermione, also Blaise/Luna and Theo/Neville. Canon compliant up to the Battle of Hogwarts.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary** : It's been eight years since the Battle of Hogwarts, three years since Harry's was killed by Voldemort. Some were captured and marked as slaves, those who escaped are being hunted. Hermione, captured and sold to the highest bidder. Mature readers only please. Warnings in A/N. Mainly Draco/Hermione, also with Blaise/Luna and Theo/Neville. Canon compliant up to the Battle of Hogwarts.

 **Author's Note:** Hello fanfiction readers/writers, this is the first time I've written anything that wasn't an essay, so please be constructive with your criticism. Actually, I'm just going to put this first chapter out there and see how it's received before I decide to continue or not. Especially since I don't think I can write Draco very well, witty banter is expected, and I just don't know how I'm going to do that.

This will be dark. There will be a lot of implied rape, I won't go into detail with it, not really my thing. YKINMK and all that. There will be violence and I'm not going to put warnings before every chapter (I feel like that gives too much away, I didn't even like disclosing my pairings in the summary). So I'm warning you now; major and minor characters are dead and dying, there is rape, mutilation, murder, homosexuality, bisexuality, heterosexuality, tattoos (oh the horror!) and other stuff I might throw in later.

Also, if anyone would like to Beta my work please PM me, I would really appreciate it.

Anyway, enough of my babbling, here is the first chapter, I hope you like it!

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing, everything belongs to JKR. Except for the Scar… I got it from that movie Jumper. You'll see what I'm talking about in a minute.

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE**

They were closing in. They've been hunted since Emmaline was caught outside Horncastle. It wasn't her fault really. Everyone was caught eventually, you just put it off for as long as you could. Hermione looked out into the foliage, shivering in the early spring rain, goosebumps visible on her tanned arms.

Apparition is no longer safe. They figured out how to follow a persons Scar, the small rip in space-time left when a person disapparated. It was only there for a minute at the most, but it they could follow if they hurried. Her knuckles turned white as her grip tightened on her wand. Blinking rain out of her eyes, she pushed her soaked curls off her forehead into a low ponytail.

They would run into other groups occasionally, but only the smallest ones join together. Large groups were too obvious… too dangerous. Theirs was bigger than most, with George, Percy, Charlie, Arthur, Neville, Ginny, Luna, and Penelope. They had regrouped with the rest of the Order at Grimmauld Place after the Battle of Hogwarts. Well, some of them anyway. Molly was murdered at Hogwarts by the Lestrange bitch. Fred and Seamus fell there too. Remus… Tonks… So many have passed beyond the Veil. The Resistance lived on for five more years, until Harry was killed at the Battle of Gloucester, August 13th. Then it all fell apart, everyone scattered, there was nothing and no one holding us together anymore. Hermione had gone on the run with what was left of the Weasley's, picking up strays on the way. Losing some too. Bill and Fleur were captured last year, though they were most likely 'purged' since each were 'tainted'. Still, it was probably better than what happens to those deemed worthy of being slaves. Her breath frosted in the chilly air.

Slaves. That's what supporters of the light were reduced to now. Slaves and fugitives. Or just dead. That's where they were all headed eventually. She scanned the trees, her breath shallow in anticipation.

They were hiding out in Caingorms Forest, it wouldn't be long now. There's already a disappariton jinx on the area. That sucked, sure they could be tracked, but if they all disapparated at once some might get away. Doesn't matter now.

The nine of them stood in a circle; filthy, malnourished, and soaked to the bone.

 _Damn this rain, can't see or hear anything._ She strained to listen for the squelch of a footstep or the brush of cloth against bark. To her right Ginny shifted uneasily, on her left Charlie caught her eye and smiled grimly. Her heart ached, like it did every time she looked at him. Out of all the Weasley's, Charlie resembled _him_ the most. Ron. It's been five years, seven months and six days since he passed through the Veil. She glanced down at her wedding band, dull and faded, a reminder of the time they'd had together. She clenched her jaw, returning to her vigil, this wasn't the time for reminiscing.

" _Stupefy_!" A jet of light shot out from behind a tree, being absorbed into Hermione's waiting shield.

" _AVADA KEDAVRA!"_ She cried out. It's been years since she felt guilty for using that spell, too much had happened. The man crumbled, unable to dodge, but another took his place. All around, her family fought. A tall, scarred snatcher leered as he blocked her leg-locker, sending a streak of violet light towards her, she deflected it into the sky. Behind her, someone grunted in pain, Arthur maybe, but Hermione couldn't afford to be distracted. This man was fast, trying to overwhelm her, she was having a hard time absorbing them all, and she couldn't risk deflecting and hitting someone behind her.

 _Time to make things a bit more.. physical._ Hermione countered with a spell of her own invention, which mimicked a muggle flash-bang. As it's name suggests it directed a bright burst of light and a loud crack towards the victim, momentarily rendering their senses useless. Using this short advantage, she quickly stepped forward and RAMMED the heel of her palm up against his nose, relishing his pained scream before she silenced him permanently.

She spun around, taking in the scene before her. Arthur was struggling to fend off three snatchers, Charlie faced two. Percy's was laying prone and bleeding heavily, shielded against an assailant by the protective form of his fiancé, Penelope. Ginny and Luna were back to back, blasting off hexes at any snatcher who dared come into their line of sight. George was in the trees, facing an unknown number of opponents, his presence betrayed by the flashes of multicolored light leaking through the leaves. Neville was locked in a mixture of physical and magical combat with a wiry looking snatcher, rain and evening gloom working together to hide the dark figures.

Hermione ran towards the couple on the ground, dispatching the snatcher from behind and catching Penelope's grateful glance.

"I'll cover you." She said, the beautiful brunette nodded, turning to her fiancé, wand tip already alight with healing magic.

The group gravitated towards each other again, Penny working furiously to save Percy at the center of their cluster. George emerged from the surrounding forest to join the final stand, ducking a killing curse on the way.

 _They're getting desperate, to resort to murder_. Of course, he WAS aiming at George, and the women were the real prize.

Behind her, Penelope keened, "He's dead!" Cradling the man's head in her lap, his hair especially distinct against his bloodless skin. Arthur, overwhelmed by his attackers, dies. A one-eyed snatcher manages to bind Luna, her falling body pushing Ginny into a green flash aimed for George.

"Fuck" Hermione, choking back a sob, she couldn't cry, not yet. She gripped her vine tight, pushing her body to move faster. George catches a stunner to the chest and crumples. Hermione disarms one of the snatchers, and kills another. She turns just in time to see Charlie erupt into flames his screams echoing through the woods, an ironic end for the merry dragon-tamer. She turns again to watch as Neville is spelled silent, his non-verbals are too weak to protect him, and he is captured next.

The skirmish had come to a halt. Only Hermione remained standing, Penelope weeping quietly nearby. The storm had stopped sometime during the fighting, the remaining evidence dripped from the branches and the individuals dispersed among them.

"A'wright now", one nappy haired man snickered, drawing her attention to him, the rest of the snatchers had their wands raised, "put 'em down and come quietly, an' maybe I'll sell you to someone what'll treat you nice."

Penelope sat, hunched over the exsanguinated remains of her lover. The half-blood looked up at the sodden witch, sorrow and panic warring in her eyes.

"I'm sorry Hermione." She whispered, lifting her wand to point at her own head and closing her eyes.

"Penelope! No!" Hermione lunged towards her, heart racing.

" _Expulso._ " Her head burst, spraying the surroundings with blood and grey matter.

Hermione cringed away from the gore, horrified, not even registering when she was bound.

"Shite," the leader spat at the headless corpse, "that one would have made us a good bit."

" 'S a'wright Sam, we still got two birds, and that blonde's got some nice tits." Luna's eyes widened in fear and she struggled against her bonds to the mirth of the Death Eater's errand boys.

"Hands off Lynch, they're worth more as cherries. You can play with any what's already been fucked." He stepped toward Hermione, raising his wand.

 _Fuck…_ Everything went black.

* * *

 **End Author's Note:** So…? What did you think? The accented dialogue feels like bleeh. -_-

If anyone has any guesses/suggestions/criticisms/praise don't be afraid to PM or leave a review, I'd love to read them. Especially if it's praise, that's always good. Ok, thanks for reading!

Eep! I'm so nervous! *Skitters away* *Pokes head out from behind sofa to watch*


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, followed and/or favorited this story! It makes me giddy to know there are people out there who want to read more, and your reviews have spurred me on!

 **Roth** – I don't have an update schedule simply because I've never done this before and I don't know what would be realistic.

 **CHAPTER TWO**

They were finally finished with her. It had taken hours and she was sore all over, it feels like a few of her ribs are cracked, and her wrists were raw from the coarse rope used to restrain her. Plus her right eye was so swollen she could barely see, but it was over. _For now,_ she had to remind herself, _there's going to be plenty more in the future._ Sam pushed her through a door shut it behind her leaving her standing at the top of a dark stairway. She waited at the top for her eyes to adjust before she attempted to walk down, somewhere in the darkness a woman coughed.

"Who's there?" Fear colored her tone despite her attempts to hide it.

"Hermione?"

"Luna! Oh thank Merlin. Are you ok? Did they hurt you?" She made her way carefully down the stairs, searching the darkness.

"I'm alright, they haven't touched me. Are you ok?" Hermione hesitated, considering the throbbing pain between her legs.

"I'm fine," she lied. "Where's Neville?"

"They took him away earlier. I don't know where to."

"Damn, well first things first, we have to get our wands back… my wandless magic is not so great. I can basically only summon my wand from nearby." She admitted, huddling against the slight blonde girl.

"Same here, but I don't think they're going to let us anywhere near them."

They fell silent, brainstorming.

"Luna… I'm frightened." She barely whispered the words.

"Me too…." She paused, as though weighing her words, "Hermione, from now on we need to focus on survival. We _are_ going to be separated sooner or later. Neville's already gone, and we're unlikely we'll see each other again."

Hermione let that sink in, "Luna, I can't just forget about you two, you're my family."

"And you're mine, I'm not asking you to forget about us… But we can't help each other any more." She heard her sniff.

"Luna.." Hermione cried quietly, leaning her head against the fair-haired girl's shoulder in an awkward approximation of a hug. "I won't give up. Promise me you'll survive, we'll escape and find each other again." The words sounded hollow to her own ears.

"Oh, Hermione. Gryffindor to the end." She could hear her smile, as well as her tears.

They passed the rest of the time in silence, napping intermittently, taking comfort in each others presence.

The door slammed open with a bang, causing the dark-skinned witch jump.

"Time to go!" Two men Hermione recognized from _earlier_ climbed down the stairs, roughly pulling the two girls to their feet and out the door.

"Where are we going?" She demanded as Luna struggled with her own captor a few feet away. "Where's Neville?" The men replied by magicking a gag into her mouth, causing her to nearly choke. They led them upstairs and through hallways, finally arriving outside and making their way past the wards. A loud crack rang through the air, signaling Luna's departure, shortly afterwards her own innards twisted as she was side-a-longed away.

They appeared in a large city, outside what appeared to be a cheap Lupanar. A cacophony of voices drifted through the doors despite the early hour, men slurred and women simpered. If she had harbored any doubt as to what this place was she didn't anymore.

Inside, the heavy stink of booze and perfume caused her eyes to water and her nose to itch. A few of the closest patrons turned to check out the new arrivals. The room was large, tables and columns interrupting at intervals, a bar took up the back wall where a burly, bearded man served drinks and probably kept the customers from getting too violent. To the right a set of stairs led up, presumably to the bedrooms.

Several women worked the room, each was heavily glamoured and clad in small ensembles of veils and chains, they bore runes on their collarbones marking them as slaves. She swallowed, tasting bile. These women would be called lupas, meant to distinguish a registered prostitute from the streetwalkers who were simply referred to as whores. Technically it was illegal to pay for a whore, and most men wouldn't want to, there was no quality guarantee. Lupanars varied in price and quality, but they all had to operate under certain basic rules in order to be legal. Every lupa had to be a slave, marked and registered, and the establishment had to test regularly for STD's and pregnancy. There were charms that were meant to prevent both of those, but they weren't always effective, hence the tests.

The two witches were subjected to groping hands and lewd comments as they made their way to the back of the dimly lit room. Passing by a particularly loud table one man's hand shot out wrapping around her waist and pulling her into his lap, still gagged she had to settle for glaring at him. Nearby, Luna was fending off her own crapulous assailant.

"This one's feisty!" The drunken sod declared dodging elbows to squeeze her breast.

"Oi Sam," another called out, his firewhiskey sloshing onto the floor as he attempted to stand, "I'll give you five galleons for a go at the dark one." Hermione's eyes widened, and she renewed her struggle, inciting more laughter. Even some of the lupas were laughing, though most were trying to regain the attention of their patrons.

Hermione looked at Sam in panic, and he grinned, "Ten galleons and you can 'ave 'er on the table!" The room erupted into catcalls and whistles as the inebriated bastard stood, fumbling for his coin pouch.

"Sam!" Hermione peeked around the head of the man sniffing her hair to see a middle-aged brunette, dressed in a modest period dress. She arched one fleek eyebrow at the snatcher and passed through a door behind the bar Hermione hadn't seen.

Her captors pulled Hermione and Luna away from the protesting patrons, "Sorry lads, we've got business, maybe Madame Pyrites'll let you have 'er later."

Once inside the room, Hermione saw it was a rather small office. Two bookcases leaned against the back wall, their shelves neatly lined with scrolls and boxes. The walls were bare, the only other furniture being a pendulum clock to the left, and a sturdy desk and chair facing the door. The woman, Madame Pyrites rounded the desk and removed her gloves. Absentmindedly, Hermione dated the woman's dress _._ Lace and silk mixed beautifully from the high collar to the train of the gored skirt. Elaborate tassels swayed slightly as she moved. _Edwardian; La Belle Époque._ It appears fashion has reverted somewhat under Voldemort's rule.

"I didn't expect to see you back here so soon."

"We got lucky. That bird we sold you a couple weeks ago was part of their group, we just had to follow their Scars. There was two more but they didn't make it."

"Shame too, that ginger bint was a piece." The second snatcher piped up.

"These two will do, but couldn't you have cleaned them up beforehand?" She eyed the dried blood crusting Hermione's thighs. "I assume the brunette is not a virgin?"

"Naw, but the blonde is."

"You haven't lied to me yet, but I still have to have her checked for the records sake." She pulled out writing equipment, and a vial of clear liquid. Hermione's eyes widened when she recognized the Veritaserum. "The blonde first." She directed Sam who obliged by removing Luna's gag and forcing her mouth open. The Madame opened the vial, placing two drops on Luna's tongue before returning to her desk. "What is your full name?"

Her face contorted as she struggled against the potions effects, "Luna Araxie Lovegood."

"And your date of birth?"

"February thirteenth, nineteen eighty-one."

"Blood status?"

"Pure-blood."

"Excellent, I know just what to do with you. Clarence!" She called.

After a moment, the door opened to reveal a tall, thin blonde man. "Madame?"

She handed him the scroll, "Take this one to the healer to have her checked and then marked. I want her ready by this evening."

He bowed, pulled out his wand and conjured a lead attached to Luna's bonds. She looked back at Hermione, fear evident in her eyes, "Hermione?" She was out the door.

"Luna!" Hermione garbled around her gag, struggling against her bindings which earned her a slap.

"That's enough of that Sam, you don't need to damage the product any more. Open her mouth."

They administered the Veritaserum, it only took a few moments for her to feel it's effects.

"Name?" A new scroll awaited on the desk, quill poised above it.

"Hermione Jean Granger."

"Date of birth?"

"September nineteenth, nineteen seventy-nine"

"Blood-status?"

She tried to keep her mouth closed, but it was in vain, "Muggle-born."

"Hmm, impure in blood and in body. It's a good thing you're pretty under that black eye or I'd leave you here. But no, you'll make a nice addition to Maison Exotique."

"Maison Exotique?" She asked, fully expecting to be silenced again.

"It's our most prestigious lupanar, each lupa is trained in the art of seduction and many end up specializing." She didn't even want to know what sorts of specialties she meant. "You're lucky, few girls end up there."

Hermione's spine stiffened and looked the slaver straight in the eye, "Fuck you."

Madame Pyrites just smiled and raised her wand, " _Crucio_ ".

She screamed until the darkness descended.

* * *

 **End Author's Note:**

*LUPA – _n._ Latin (f. of Lupus, plural: Lupae) – Whore, Prostitute; literally She-Wolf

*LUPANAR – _n._ Latin (pronounced Lupainer) – Brothel; Whorehouse; Wolf-Den

Did anyone notice I used the word 'fleek'? Did you know it's actually in Merriam-Webster and Oxford Dictionaries? ALSO, for those of you who may be adding and subtracting in your minds, this IS a time-appropriate term, it's been eight years since the Battle of Hogwarts (May 2, 1998) so this is 2006, and the term 'on fleek' has apparently been on Urban Dictionary since 2003, though it's popularity only spiked in 2014.

Pyrites Family: A (most likely) pure-blood family. The name appears in the JKR's very early drafts of the first chapter of the first book, as a Voldemort-supporter/likely Death Eater. She also posted a page from her drafts on her website ( ) of the Golden Trio talking about the Stone and Argo Pyrites, author of _Alchemy, Ancient Art and Science_ , came up. [HP Wikia] In this story Madam Horatia Pyrites is Argo's niece.

Luna's middle name is not canon. JKR doesn't tell us her middle name, so I just googled 'water names' (you know, cause luna) and this one website said Araxie – A river said to inspire poetic expression, Armenian, I thought it went well with the rest of her name.

So! Please review! Please please please! Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Thank you everyone who has reviewed! I really appreciate it! I'm so glad you all like my story so far, and I hope you continue to enjoy it.

Let me just take a moment to pimp a few of my favourite fics for you Dramione lovers out there, not necessarily in order of preference:

The Nietzsche Classes by Beringae A post-war fic, Hermione and Draco are both kind of messed up. It's really good.

Silencio by AkashaTheKitty Sixth year. There is a sequel (which is not on this website) but it's not finished and it doesn't look as though she will be completing it, which makes me sad.

The Bracelet by AkashaTheKitty She also wrote an alternate Theomione for this, though not on this website.

Turncoat by elizaye The name pretty much explains it. Draco becomes a spy for the Order and he and Hermione have lovey dovey time.

Lady of the Lake by Colubrina Dark Hermione and Colubrina, my kryptonite.

The Green Girl by Colubrina You know what? Just go read everything by Colubrina. You won't regret it.

The Bespoke Witch by glitterally A Draco/Hermione/Lucius fic.

There are many more, of course, but those are some of my favs. You should totally go read them.

Once again, I want to mention that I would really appreciate it if anyone would like to Beta this story for me. I mean, seriously, anyone, I could really use the help. Thanks!

* * *

 **CHAPTER THREE**

When she woke she was lying in a large, luxurious bed, blinking up at a wine red canopy. Sitting up she rubbed at her eyes, nearly slipping off the silk duvet. With shock, she realized she had been bathed and dressed, if that was what you could call the lace ensemble barely covering her most private areas. Frowning she studied the room, directly across from the bed was a mahogany door which matched the hardwood flooring. To her left was a small vanity table, to her right sat a round table and chairs in front of large windows covered with matching drapes inside a small alcove.

She stood, swaying dizzily and steadying herself on the bed post. Tea rested on the table, steam rising lazily, she refrained from drinking despite her parched throat, not wanting to risk being drugged. _Not that it would matter,_ she scratched at her collarbone flinching when it stung, _they can do whatever they want with me now._ Stepping towards a gilded mirror hiding the closet door she pulled aside the brassiere's strap. A brand new identification tattoo was inked into the skin below her left collarbone. Frowning at the reflection, she swiped her finger over the glossy surface, coming away covered with a healing salve.

She recognized the markings, there was a reason she was top of the class. A reversed Fehu rune, for restriction. It wouldn't be strong enough to force her compliance, but it would make it difficult for her to disobey a direct order. A vine leaf, to symbolize her wand wood. In the middle was a closed circle, flanked by two symbols she didn't recognize. A dragon head followed, for her wand core, and to close was a reversed Beorc rune, to make her sterile. The new regime wouldn't want little mudblood babies running around. Sighing, she readjusted her strap. There was no way out of this now, not with those runes seared into her flesh, and especially without her wand.

The door handle turned, Hermione I'm mediately tensed, instinctively reaching for her wand and cursing at its absence. Madame Pyrites brown bun appeared, "Ah you're awake, it's about time."

Scowling she asked, "Where am I?"

"You're in your room at Maison Exotique. This is where you'll be sleeping, and entertaining." She took a seat at the quaint little tea table.

The blood drained from her face, "I will do no such thing."

"Oh yes you will, but your resistance will be appreciated." Taking a sip from the tea cup, she frowned and added a bit of sugar. "Here at Maison Exotique we have several high paying customers who are willing to break our new girls for us."

"What do you mean?" Hermione felt vulnerable with her body as exposed as it was, but she didn't want to make her discomfort obvious by grabbing a blanket.

"Many leaders in our new regime enjoy… How shall I put this," She tapped an immaculate fingernail on her cheek, " _Overpowering_ their sexual partners. However doing so on the street would just be unsafe, who knows what diseases those women might be carrying. Here they are provided a safe, secluded environment in which to practice their sexual preferences."

Hermione asked incredulously, "Are you saying they'll pay to _rape_ me?"

"Yes, though few like to use that word." She picked a piece of lint off her dress, entirely unconcerned.

"That's ridiculous! I won't do this." Her fists were clenched in rage.

"Well that _is_ the idea." Pyrites stood, walking towards the door. "Your first guest will be arriving soon. Fight as much as you want, he's one of our regulars and is quite used to dealing with new slaves." Pausing in the doorway she added, "Please do your best to resist, he rather enjoys that." Leaving Hermione stunned she exited the room.

Hermione dropped hard, too shocked to attempt being graceful. _I don't know why I'm surprised. They're Death Eaters._ It only made sense that they would enjoy rape and violence. Considering Madame Pyrites parting words, she was going to be raped no matter what, it happened at the Snatchers lair and it's going to happen here, a lot. She hung her head in her hands. Despite her desire to deny this man his pleasure, she just couldn't come to terms with being compliant. She _had_ to fight back, standing, she crossed the room and picked up the teapot, it was by far the best weapon in sight. Emptying the contents through the window, which was crossed by iron bars, she settled herself down to await her assailant. Eyes locked on the door and warm porcelain gripped in hand.

* * *

 **The Next Morning, around 3:00 am**

 **A different part of London**

An aristocratic man reclined before the cold fireplace, he swirled an amber liquid in his crystal glass, listening to the ice clink and the rain pound against his window. Rumpled slacks his only protection from the chill air, lightning cast sharp shadows over his rigid chest.

"Darling?" A woman's voice called. He took a swig, grimacing slightly at the burn in his throat. "There you are, are you coming back to bed?"

He didn't even turn his head, seeming not to hear her.

The woman, nude but for an unbuttoned men's shirt, leaned against the doorframe, "Draco?"

At his name he started, "What are you still doing here?"

She blanched, "What do you mean? I thought-"

"You thought this meant something?" He regarded her, his face cast in shadow and expression indistinguishable, though amusement colored his tone.

"Well, I just- We had such a good time, and-"

"Yes, it was rather good, and now it's over. Get out." He cocked his head, "Unless you require payment?"

Furiously, she replied, "I most certainly do not! I'm not a-"

"Then you have two minutes to collect your clothes, or you will learn just what it means to cross a Malfoy." His tone, no longer amused, cut like glass.

She paled, scurrying to do as directed. Draco stayed ensconced in his grey club chair even as his guest distantly slammed the front door.

 _Sluts…_ He shook his head. Sometimes he thought about going celibate, never seriously of course, but at least then he wouldn't have to deal with tramps who thought they could ensnare a high ranking Death Eater with their womanly charms. As if they could. As if they were good enough. As if any of them could compare to _her._ No one could ever compare to her. She was perfection, she was bliss. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to picture her for a moment. Not as he had last seen her, that last time in Malfoy Manor haunted his nightmares to this day, despite all the new horrors he had witnessed over the years.

No, he preferred to picture her as she had been when they were children. Bushy haired and bright eyed. Her face so expressive, it was no wonder she hadn't been placed in Slytherin. He smiled, reminiscing about the day he had realized he loved her. It was sixth year, and he had been stalking her as he normally did when he wasn't working on the vanishing cabinet. She was his joy in the midst of a nightmare.

She had sequestered herself in the middle of the History section, surrounded by books and parchment, seemingly unwilling to relocate she had hunkered down right in the middle of the aisle. Leaning against a shelf with her long legs stretching out from beneath her skirt with everything she needed in arms reach, wild hair slipping out of it's restraint and an ink stain on the side of her nose.

He had been stealthily searching for her when he stumbled over her protruding limbs, cursing profusely. Grey eyes met brown. When he realized who's legs he was currently tangled up in he froze, face flushing red.

"Are you alright, Malfoy?" She had asked, though her concern was questionable at best.

"Eyh- Ung.. Uh.." Dammit Draco, those weren't even real words! What the fuck?

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Her dark eyes twinkled in merriment, chuckling when her beast of a familiar leapt from a shelf to land on Draco's chest. At the deep throaty sound he'd found he was extremely grateful for the kneazel as he dug his claws into Draco's chest, distracting him from the direction his thoughts had taken.

Breaking out of his reverie, Draco stood and stretched, his toned body rippled beneath his flesh. Plucking a mahogany box off the mantle he reached inside and pulled out a small white stick, similar to a cigarette. Stepping onto the balcony he inhaled it's length, checking the quality of the marijuana. Seeming satisfied, he lit the end with the tip of his finger and a wandless _incendio_. Leaning against the railing he sucked on the spliff, enjoying the light mist of raindrops on his exposed skin.

After Hermione had escaped from the manor, with a bit of passive aid from him, they had broken into Gringotts and Hogwarts, stealing something that was apparently _very_ important to the Dark Lord. Though whatever they had been doing was in vain, the Chosen One died and Voldemort reigned supreme, declaring himself an immortal god. Last he heard he had married the ginger Weasel and they were on the run together. He knew he shouldn't be upset. He had no right, no claim to her, but he couldn't help it.

Sighing, he blew out a cloud of smoke. Who knew what sort of life she was living out there, but it had to be better than what would happen if she got caught. He had been on slave detail early on, it was grunt work, sorting through the various individuals and placing them where they were most needed, or wanted. He had thanked his lucky stars when he was promoted. He was going to go insane if he was forced to stay much longer.

The worst was a few months in, a girl he vaguely remembered from Hogwarts. She was a few years younger than him, Romilda Vane. He hadn't bothered to know her name until he was required to hand over her title to the lecherous Mr. Crabbe. She had asked him not to, had begged, had offered all sorts of favours if he would just let her go. He almost given in, his heart aching, but he was terrified of what would happen to him, to his mother, he couldn't. So he handed her over. That was when it had become too much, he couldn't deal with the pain, the guilt. He started cutting himself that night, it helped, along with his vices.

He had seen her a few times after that, Crabbe enjoyed showing off his pretty little pureblood toy. He would dress her up in lace and silk, though didn't bother glamouring away the cuts and bruises still visible. He would adorn her in jewels, usually in the form of a collar and leash. At first she had pierced him with her eyes, dark and accusing. It hadn't taken long for her spirit to break, he knew when it happened because he had braced himself for her gaze only to be met with emptiness. He had nearly killed himself that night, had cut too deeply into his wrist. Theo found him the next morning, laying in a pool of his own blood, his bedroom destroyed in despair and rage.

Weeks later they had attended a dinner party at the Crabbe Estate and she was no where to be seen. When he commented on her absence, Crabbe seemed disgruntled, "She got hold of a knife and tried to kill me in the night. Her runes stopped her, so she ended up killing herself." Draco commiserated through clenched teeth. "The worst part," Crabbe whined, "Is that she was pregnant." Luckily for him, the woman he bought after Vane gave him an son. A bastard heir to take the place of Vincent.

Draco sucked on the little white stick of bliss one last time, tossing the remains into the rain. He had purchased this penthouse flat years ago, when his mother was killed. The Dark Lord hadn't been too pleased at her lie about Potter's 'death'. Draco and his father had been spared, though it took a while to earn back the trust that was lost. It was far too big for one man and Merlin knows he regrets the decision. At the time he was too distraught over his mother and didn't care where he went as long as it wasn't home.

The top four floors of a condo building was converted into the ultimate bachelor pad. He gave the decorator carte blanche to do whatever, just make it look nice, and he supposed it did, but it didn't feel like home. Everything was so open, he basically lived in a giant fishbowl, though no one else lived close to or as high as him so he supposed it didn't matter. The view was nice, assuming you liked looking at buildings and lights. He didn't really care much about it either way. He didn't really care much about anything anymore, years of suppressing his emotions had to take it's toll.

Retreating indoors, Draco dropped his trousers in the living room for the elf to pick up and slipped into the shower to wash the scent of his latest conquest off. As he scrubbed he subconsciously rubbed harder on the forearm that was marred by the Dark Mark, as though he could wash away his sins.

Rinsing away the suds with scalding water, he considered his future. _Maybe I ought to get married, at least then he'd have someone to share all this empty space with._ Plus his father was pushing him to continue the family line. _Two birds_. He struggled to think of a woman he'd want to spend the rest of his life with, though a brown-skinned goddess was the only one who came to mind. Sighing, he toweled off. He'd see what Blaise and Theo thought about it tomorrow, then maybe he'd owl his dad for a list of suitable matches.

Collapsing onto the bed, not bothering to dress, Draco surrendered himself to a few hours of drug induced bliss.

* * *

 **Back at Maison Exotique – The Red Room**

Signs of a struggle were evident in the red room. The quaint table and chairs were overturned, the dusty rose pattern was still visible on the shattered porcelains scattered on the floor. Drops of blood splattered the hardwood floor, leading towards the bed where Hermione lay. The man, he hadn't bothered introducing himself, had left nearly twenty minutes ago according to the clock in the corner. She tugged at the coarse ropes binding her to the bed posts, aggravating her already chafed wrists and ankles. Silent tears streamed down the sides of her face. She turned her head attempting to dry them on her bare shoulders.

He had left her nude and spread eagled on mattress, to teach her a lesson in obedience, he said. Hermione sniffed, trying to control her runny nose. Aching all over and unable to sleep, she listened to the pendulum swing as the seconds tick by, hoping and praying someone would take pity on her. But no one came, so she lay, helpless and humiliated, until long after the sun rose.

* * *

 **End Author's Note:**

Pictures of and a link to Draco's Penthouse Flat are on my tumblr if you're interested.

Anyone else find it funny that Remus' last name is Lupin. It's like, even before he was attacked by Greyback he was the Wolf-man.

Please review! Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!


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